


Food for the Soul

by Selana



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Comfort Food, Cooking, Developing Friendships, Food, Friendship, Gen, Terrifyingly Deadly People Being Very Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2478704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selana/pseuds/Selana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers have moved into Stark Tower, but despite having a communal kitchen and living room, they pretty much live besides each other, not together. This is about to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bruce

**Author's Note:**

> I'll post one chapter every Sunday, until the story is finished, most of them have already been written.
> 
> Thanks to my betas [faeleverte](http://archiveofourown.org/users/faeleverte) and [kathar](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kathar) who helped to make this readable -- and thanks to A. who gave me the inspiration to this story.
> 
> Please leave comments to let me know what you think of this. I always love to hear from my readers, even if it is criticism -- as long as it stays polite. You don't have to like my writing, you can certainly tell me when you don't like it, but mind your language, please. I have seen on too many other writer's works that they got insulted for not writing the story the reader imagined. If that happens here, I will delete your comment without warning
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just wish I would. So I just borrow them for some fun

It had all started by accident, like so many things with them. The Avengers were a team now, had all moved into Stark Tower and more often than not at least a few of them drifted into the communal kitchen around dinner time. 

For Bruce it was strange to live with so many people who _knew_ what he was, and didn’t seem to mind. Not bad, definitely not, but he was so used to hiding and running away, this took some time to get used to. And it was one thing to live in the same building as the rest of the team, quite another to knock into someone or other while making your dinner because too many people were in the kitchen at once. Even if it was a large kitchen, it got kind of crowded with several people trying to make food at the same time. 

One night, after Bruce had given up on actually cooking and had made himself a quick omelette again, he sat the the table and looked around. He tried to take in what exactly his teammates were doing, wanted to know if they were eating an equally rushed and dissatisfying meal as he was. Bruce was startled for a moment, he realized that they were more than teammates, they were friends. He actually had friends, people he didn’t have to hide from, who didn’t judge him for who he was, for the first time in way too long. He shook himself out of it and went back to watching while eating his own dinner.

Clint and Natasha were sharing… something… that Clint had thrown together, it looked strange, but they seemed to like it. Tony had ordered Chinese, Steve was on the first of a big pile of sandwiches and a salad. Thor had microwaved a few TV dinners and was making his way through them with more determination than relish. Bruce sighed.

“This isn’t really working.” He addressed the room at large, or maybe he was talking to himself, and everyone turned to look at him. Bruce shrugged, then gestured around the table. “When was the last time any of us has had a proper meal? A home cooked one?”

“There’s never enough room in the kitchen to cook.” Steve shrugged. “And I got by on worse than this.”

“Exactly, if we’re all trying to do our own thing, there isn’t room…” Bruce’s voice trailed off. He took a sip of his water, then continued. “I could cook for everyone tomorrow, I’m kind of missing real food.”

“That’s a great idea, Bruce.” Tony slapped him on the shoulder. “Just let JARVIS know what you need, he’ll have everything delivered.”

“Tony!” Steve looked embarrassed. “We can’t just let Bruce do all the work for us.”

“Why not? He offered.” Tony shrugged and glanced from Steve to Bruce. “Or didn’t you mean it? You know you don’t have to feed everyone here, we could all just order something, nobody HAS to cook here if they don’t want, I’m sure I told you that when you moved in. Just order whatever you want, JARVIS will take care of it…”

“Tony, can you shut up for a moment?” Bruce interrupted Tony’s ranting, which caused Clint to snicker quietly. “Yes, I offered, and no, I don’t want to order in on your dime every day.” He looked around the table again. “So, what do you think? Dinner at 7 tomorrow? Anyone objecting to spicy food?”

Everyone agreed that it sounded like a great idea, so after the kitchen had emptied, Bruce took stock of what was already in the kitchen, then made a list for JARVIS of what else he would need to feed a demi-god, a super soldier, two spies, Tony and himself.

“And JARVIS, would you please make sure that Tony actually is here for dinner tomorrow? Remind him early enough that he can finish any critical work. And tell him I’ll drag him out of the workshop myself if he doesn’t show up.”

“Of course, Doctor Banner.” JARVIS answered promptly, sounding slightly pleased - or maybe Bruce was imagining things. 

The next day Bruce spent the morning and part of the afternoon in his lab, for once undisturbed by Tony. But at around 3 pm he began to finish up everything that needed his supervision, started a simulation on one of the workstations that wouldn’t be finished until morning and shut all other equipment down. Then he headed up to the communal kitchen and began to wash and cut and dice huge amounts of vegetables, fry what felt like a ton of meat and lost himself in the task of preparing his own version of a stew he’d had in Brazil a few times. Soon the kitchen smelled sharply of meat and spices, mixed with the scent of corn bread baking in the oven. This taken care of, he cut up more vegetables and prepared two huge bowls of salad with different dressings, then began to clean up the kitchen. 

Around 6:30 Clint appeared and began to set the table without being prompted - he was soon joined by Steve. Everything was almost ready, and Bruce tasted the stew one last time to make sure it was good, then took the cornbread out of the oven. He heard the team chatter quietly; everyone seemed to be there. Yes, when he turned around even Tony had arrived and was sitting at the table. Bruce smiled and placed the fresh corn bread on the table; the salad bowls had already been placed there.

“That smells delicious, Bruce.” Steve commented and made room on the table for the stew.

Everyone filled their bowls and grabbed some bread, it was like a huge family with all the ‘could you pass me’ and ‘hey, I want some of that too’. Once they all had food in front of them, the room got suddenly quiet, and Bruce glanced around worriedly. But it looked as if everyone was just too busy eating to talk, even Tony didn’t say anything, was just eating.

“This is great.” Clint grinned at Bruce in between bites and everyone nodded in agreement or made appreciative noises. Bruce grinned back.

It was strange how natural it felt to share a meal and time with the rest of the team, but judging by the chatter that rose up after a while, and by the fact that they all stayed for a long time after everyone had finished eating, Bruce wasn’t the only one who enjoyed it. He couldn’t even remember when he had felt at home for the last time, so comfortable in the presence of other people. Some tension in Bruce’s shoulders eased, he hadn’t even really been aware of it any more until it was gone. While he sat there, ate, and listened to his team - his friends, even - chattering about everything and nothing, he felt completely safe for the first time in ages. No need to run, no need to hide - they knew who he was, what he was capable of, and still accepted him.

When he tried to clean up after everyone was done eating seconds - and in Thor’s case thirds and fourths - and the conversation was dying down, Steve and Clint almost forcefully stopped him and everyone else joined them in clearing the table.

“You have cooked, we clean, it’s really simple.” Clint insisted, while he piled bowls and plates on top of each other in a very dangerous looking way. Somehow it all made it back to the kitchen in one piece, where Steve was busy washing the dishes that wouldn’t fit into the dishwasher and Natasha filled said dishwasher with everything else. Even Tony helped to carry leftovers to the kitchen and store them in the fridge. When Thor tried to join them, he was shooed out again - there really wasn’t room for that many people to work in the small kitchen - so he joined Bruce back at the table. Finally everything was cleared away and everyone had sat down with another drink.

“We really should do this more often, you make for surprisingly tolerable company.” Natasha addressed them all a short while later.

“So, who’s turn is it to cook next?” Tony asked. “And don’t look at me, I won’t go near a stove -- not unless you want me to set the kitchen on fire or make experiments in there.”

“We know, Tony. You can feed us take-out, when it’s your turn.” Clint grinned and flicked a small ball of rolled up napkin into Tony’s empty glass.

“Hey, watch it, Legolas.”

“Ah, you think I’m a pretty elf? Thanks, Stark.” Clint sent Tony a kiss. “But seriously, if you don’t mind that my cooking is mostly… unconventional… and improvised… and doesn’t follow any recipes, I can cook next.” He looked around the table, waiting for a reaction. “I’ve been told my food tastes pretty decent, so unless Nat has been lying to me all this time, you should be safe with me in the kitchen.”

“As if I’d lie to save your feelings.” Natasha smacked Clint on the head. “I don’t always dare to ask what exactly he has put into the things he sets in front of me, but they have been pretty good.”

Somehow that settled the matter and conversation drifted to other subjects, and after a while, one by one, they left. When Bruce got up to spend another hour or two at the lab, only Thor and Clint were still sitting at the table, squabbling about which game they should play that night. Bruce smiled to himself, apparently he wasn’t the only one who was beginning to feel at home here. He hoped that it wouldn’t be too long until they all could be together like this again.

And so Avengers Dinner Night was started.


	2. Clint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Clint's turn to cook... and he's not handling it well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another chapter -- I hope you don't get bored by the slow posting schedule, but I'd rather not run out of chapters to post and leave you completely hanging. Life has a tendency to get in the way of my writing.
> 
> Thanks to my betas [ faeleverte](http://archiveofourown.org/users/faeleverte) and [kathar](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kathar) who helped to make this readable -- and thanks to A. who gave me the inspiration to this story.
> 
> Please leave comments to let me know what you think of this. I always love to hear from my readers, even if it is criticism -- as long as it stays polite. You don't have to like my writing, you can certainly tell me when you don't like it, but mind your language, please. I have seen on too many other writer's works that they got insulted for not writing the story the reader imagined. If that happens here, I will delete your comment without warning
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just wish I would. So I just borrow them for some fun

It was a while until they were all at the tower again, with time to sit down for a meal together. Clint and Natasha had been on a mission for SHIELD, Tony had to go on a short business trip, Thor had visited Jane, so whoever was home -- yes, it was home for Clint, as strange as it still felt to have a home -- had taken care of feeding themselves. But now they were all back, and Clint remembered that it was his turn to cook for everyone. Natasha had ‘helpfully’ texted everyone and told them when to be there for dinner -- and Clint was quietly freaking out.

Yes, he had offered, but now shit was getting real and he was supposed to prepare something edible for so many people. He wondered what someone like Tony would think of his cooking, which he had learned more out of necessity. Back when he was with the circus, they didn’t have much and had to make do with whatever was at hand -- that had led to a lot of experimental cooking with unlikely ingredients. Clint shuddered at the memory of some of the things he had to eat because there just wasn’t anything else, no matter how much he had messed up cooking that day. Through trial and error he had figured out what he could combine, and what he had better NOT add to certain dishes, but he had never really learned how to cook a proper meal, how to use a recipe. Most of what he made was pan fried dishes or stews and soups with a bunch of seemingly random ingredients -- not all of them still identifiable when he was through with them. Sure, Nat seemed to like when he cooked, but what about the others?

“Stop fretting and let’s get on with making a grocery list,” Nat growled at him. “How am I supposed to help you, when you’re not telling me what you need?”

“Dammit, Nat, that’s the problem!” He growled back. “I never make a shopping list, I just throw together whatever is in the fridge or pantry! I don’t know what to make, my cooking doesn’t work like that!” Clint paced up and down his room.

“Calm down. I swear to god, if you don’t stop pacing, I will tie you to this chair.” She pointed at the empty chair next to hers. “Now will you sit down and talk to me, or do I have to make you?”

“Fine!” Clint threw himself onto the chair and raised his hands in defeat. “Happy now?”

“Much better.” Nat smiled at him. “How about that, we’ll just let JARVIS order enough meat and vegetables of his choice -- he knows everyone’s preferences and food allergies and such -- and then you just do your thing?”

“It would be my pleasure to assist you, Agent Barton.” 

“Right, good, that sounds better.” Clint took a deep breath. “Just make sure that there are vegetables, meat of some kind that doesn’t need to be cooked for too long, and either potatoes, rice, pasta or something like that. Oh, and maybe something to make a salad on the side. And ice cream, I want ice cream after. I’ll need it after this.”

“I will have everything delivered to the communal kitchen within the next hour. Should I message you, once the delivery is completed?”

“Thanks, JARVIS, that would be great.” Clint got up and walked over to the small counter that held a coffee maker, a microwave and an electric kettle. “Coffee, Nat? Or tea? I definitely need coffee if I want to survive today.”

“You should know better by now than to offer me coffee when I just brought over more tea.” Nat smiled and pushed the box of tea that was sitting on the table in his direction. “And I’m really not sure if you should have more caffeine, as wired as you already are.”

“As if a bit of coffee would change that, _you_ should know _me_ better than that by now.” He smiled back, strangely calmed by their familiar banter.

The next hour passed in companionable silence. Nat was reading a book, Clint was watching TV -- or rather zapping restlessly through the channels, there was nothing good on and he was too wired to really focus on one thing. He knew that the things he cooked might look unconventional, but that they were pretty tasty. But what would Tony think when he saw it? He was used to posh meals, prepared by professional chefs after all. Or what about someone who apparently knew how to cook, like Bruce? Would he notice that Clint was just winging it? And why did it even matter? He barely knew most of the team, he shouldn’t care about what they thought of his kitchen skills. After all he was part of the team because he was Hawkeye, the best marksman -- not because he was a chef. And yet he couldn’t stop worrying.

“Agent Barton, everything I ordered has been delivered to the communal kitchen.” JARVIS’ voice interrupted Clint’s thoughts. “If you need anything else, please let me know. I am glad to be of assistance.”

“Thanks, JARVIS, but I’m sure you’ve already thought of everything I might need.” Clint smiled up at the ceiling, where he knew JARVIS’ cameras were located.

“Nat, can you make sure that Bruce and Tony don’t forget to check the time over their important sciencing? I’m cooking now, wish me luck.” Clint got up and walked past Natasha, who had put her book aside.

“You don’t need luck.” Natasha rolled her eyes at him. “But I’ll take care of our crazy scientists, they won’t dare to be late.” She grinned in a way that would make everyone but Clint feel threatened -- he knew it as her genuinely amused grin.

“See you later then.”

With that Clint turned around and forced himself to leave his apartment and go up to the communal kitchen. As promised, the fridge was stocked with chicken breasts and various vegetables -- Clint didn’t even know what half of them were called, but he had eaten most of them before and knew their taste. 

He decided to begin with cutting the meat in bite sized chunks, then pulled vegetables out of the fridge, seemingly at random, to cut them up as well ---- the logic behind his selection would probably only make sense to himself. Once he had started, he managed to focus on the tasks at hand and to ignore his still lingering doubts ---- his hands knew what to do and his mind was calmed by the familiar motions.

With a little bit of help from JARVIS Clint found a rice cooker of a size that probably only Tony Stark and industrial sized kitchens would own, and figured out how to use it -- he had never seen the point in buying something just designed to cook rice when you could just as well use a pot. But considering the amount of food he had to produce for the six of them, with Thor’s appetite and Steve’s enhanced metabolism, he was actually rather glad that he didn’t have to bother with regular pots.

Clint lost himself in the task of cooking and startled when someone cleared their throat behind him. He whirled around, almost dropping the wooden spoon he had used to stir just a second ago. Bruce was standing in the doorway, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Whoa, where’d you come from?” Clint glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was almost dinner time.

“Sorry, didn’t plan to startle you.” Bruce shrugged apologetically. “But Natasha threatened me with bodily harm if I was late for dinner, so I decided to rather show up early. She’s about the only one I trust to actually go through with a threat like that. Do you need any help?”

Clint grinned. “Nah, I’m about done here. But if you insist on making yourself useful, you could maybe, I dunno, set the table or something?”

“Sure, don’t want to get in your way.” Bruce entered the kitchen to take plates out of a cupboard and peered at the stove. In the pan, most vegetables had taken on a slightly brownish tinge from the sauce and spices and were not easily identifiable any more. A spicy scent rose up, even more intense when Clint stirred again after adding a healthy dose of paprika powder. “I’m not quite sure what you’re making here, but it smells great.” As if on command, Bruce’s stomach rumbled loudly.

They both laughed at that, and the last bit of nervousness left Clint. While Bruce set the table, soon assisted by Steve and Nat, Clint taste tested his stir-fry -- or whatever you would call this -- one last time, then placed pots and bowls and pans full of food on the table. Once again, to everyone’s surprise, even Tony had appeared on time and they all settled on the table like a big family.

Food got passed around, Tony and Steve gave it some curious glances before taking the first bite, but nobody hesitated to eat -- much to Clint’s relief. Still, he didn’t dare to eat himself, glanced around the table nervously to see everyone’s reaction. Natasha smiled reassuringly and tucked in, no surprise there. Tony frowned at his fork, shrugged and took a bite, face lighting up in surprise; the frown didn’t appear again. Steve and Bruce both immediately began to eat, like people who were used to unidentifiable food -- which they probably were, considering their history. 

“This reminds me of something we might have made in the war, if we got our hands on some real food, not just rations,” Steve said between bites. “But yours is way better.” He grinned and took another bite.

“Might be because I learned to cook the same way you did back then-- take whatever you have and throw it together, hope something tasty will be the result.” Clint grinned back. “Apparently I had enough practice to get it right.”

Everyone agreed that he had indeed got it perfectly right, and soon the usual chatter started up again. Clint wondered why again he had been so worried, after all each of them had spent at least some time in less than ideal circumstances and had to eat rather questionable things. Well, probably all of them, he didn’t know about Thor. But as usual, Thor was enthusiastic about food and ate with gusto.

Clint smiled, and tucked into his food as well. Who needed a fancy name for what they were cooking, just as long as it tasted good. It was great to see everyone so happy and relaxed, this must be what proper families were like. They might not always agree on everything, even fight on a regular basis, but somehow they worked.

When they were sitting with bowls of ice cream, after most of dinner had been eaten and the leftovers had been put away, the discussion of who should cook next was brought up again. Because apparently they were really sticking to the plan that they would take turns, all of them.

“I would be honoured to prepare a feast for you,” Thor said, “but the only thing I know is how to prepare meat over an open fire. That was the only food I ever had to prepare for myself, when I was hunting with my fellow warriors. It was deemed to be a task not worthy of a prince to prepare meals in a kitchen.”

“Oh, I can build you a grill. I don’t think there is a proper one large enough for what you and Steve can eat.” Tony was suddenly all excited. “We can have a huge barbecue, there’s room enough outside.”

“And I can help making some salads.” Steve added

“Maybe we should keep that in mind, for whenever Tony has actually built a grill.” Natasha raised an eyebrow. “In the meantime, which of us should cook next?”

“Always the one who asks.” Clint teased.

“What makes you think I know how to cook?” A lesser man than Clint would have been scared, very scared, by the glare Natasha shot his way. He knew her too well for that.

“Does that mean you’re admitting that there’s something you can’t do?” Clint feigned surprise.

“I didn’t say that.” Natasha’s glare got even more threatening.

“Well, can you cook or not?” Tony wanted to know.

“If I have to.”

“Then prove it next time.” Tony smirked at her, challenge clear in his voice.

“Not that I have to prove anything to you, but if you insist.” She turned her attention away from Clint and glared at Tony now. “Maybe I should read up on slow working poisons until then.” A dangerous smile appeared on Nat’s face.

“Just let me know what you’re using, so I can have the antidote ready.” Clint chimed in with his best poker face. He could tell that Nat was only joking, but from the reactions he could see it was obvious that the rest of their team couldn’t really.

“Do you really think I would be unsubtle enough to poison everything?” Nat turned to him. “Your lack of trust in my abilities is disappointing. I’m more than capable to make just those suffer who deserve it.” With that she glared back at Tony, who had gone slightly pale. “Don’t worry, Stark, I’d just use enough to make you feel miserable for a few hours, if I wanted to kill you I’d have already done so.”

Clint looked around and saw a mostly suppressed amused smile on Bruce, Thor was grinning widely, Steve looked still slightly concerned -- and Tony was obviously uncomfortable.

“Right, right, my turn.” Tony spoke too fast while he stood up. “Just let JARVIS remind me when everyone is here, and I’ll make sure there’s dinner.” He beat a hasty retreat, and as soon as the elevator door had closed behind him, Clint burst out in laughter.

“Have you seen his face?” He giggled.

Soon they were all laughing, even Steve had to admit that it was funny how scared Tony was of Natasha. Damn, it felt great to sit here with his team ---- no, his friends ---- and laugh like that. Clint hadn’t quite been aware of it, but he had missed having people around he could trust, who would have his back. Sure he’d had Nat and Coulson, but being trusted and being accepted by so many people was even better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr for a weird mix of fandom posts, personal ones and whatever strikes my fancy - [selana1505](http://selana1505.tumblr.com)


	3. Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is not a cook, but he is determined to be a good host when it is his turn to provide dinner... he might go over the top

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting will be accelerated, new chapters go up as soon as they are through beta -- I have written all of them.
> 
> And you might have noticed that the story now has 7 chapters, it kind of grew an epilogue, no idea how that happened ;-)
> 
> Thanks to my fabulous beta [faeleverte](http://archiveofourown.org/users/faeleverte) who once again helped to make this readable -- and thanks to A. who gave me the inspiration to this story and took on beta duties as well.
> 
> Please leave comments to let me know what you think of this. I always love to hear from my readers, even if it is criticism -- as long as it stays polite. You don't have to like my writing, you can certainly tell me when you don't like it, but mind your language, please. I have seen on too many other writer's works that they got insulted for not writing the story the reader imagined. If that happens here, I will delete your comment without warning
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just wish I would. So I just borrow them for some fun

“Sir, may I remind you that it is 5pm and that the rest of the Avengers will arrive in two hours for dinner.” 

JARVIS’s voice startled Tony and he straightened up, forced himself to stop working on the prototype in front of him. He glanced down at himself. Shirt and jeans as well as his hands -- and probably face and hair -- were covered in grease and dirt.

“Couldn’t you have told me a bit earlier?” He grumbled, while he hurried to finish his work to a point where he could stop for now. Before organizing dinner he would have to shower, there was no way around it.

“You asked for a reminder at this time, sir.”

“Dammit!” Tony wiped his hands on his already dark streaked jeans, then turned towards the elevator. “Okay, save my work here. Then make a list of what everyone has ordered as take-out most often, I need to decide what to get.” One last glance at the workshop; yes he could leave everything like this, JARVIS would take care of shutting everything down that couldn’t be left running. “But first, I need a shower and clean clothes.”

“That would be advisable, sir,” JARVIS replied. “I will have a list ready when you have finished cleaning up.”

JARVIS sounded way too smug for Tony’s liking, but what could he do? He had programmed him as a learning AI, and who was he learning from? The person he interacted most with -- Tony. And Tony knew a thing or two about being smug, no wonder JARVIS was picking up on it.

Once in his apartment, Tony stripped out of his dirty clothes, leaving them in a trail along his way from the elevator, through his bedroom, and into the bathroom. His socks were last and landed right in front of the shower stall. A quick glance at the mirror confirmed, he had greasy stains all over his face and his hair stood up in all directions, held like that by god knew what he had smeared into it.

During his shower, Tony tried to figure out what to order, but he had to admit that he didn’t have the slightest idea what everyone really liked. Oh, he had all of them seen eat a variety of things, but what did they _like_? It wasn’t as if he knew how to cook, the least he could do was order something everybody would be happy to eat.

Finally he was clean; that new lubricant he was trying out on the prototype was great -- and apparently it was very water and soap resistant as well. Good to know, but right then he’d have appreciated if it would come off a bit more easily. Tony wrapped himself into a huge towel and padded over to his bedroom. He quickly dressed into a clean pair of jeans and an old, but comfy shirt, then turned towards the big screen opposite his bed.

“JARVIS, what do you have for me? Show me on the screen.”

The screen flickered to life, with a neat table listing everyone and what they had ordered, sorted by how often they had gotten the same.

Thor showed a clear preference for breakfast foods, no matter what time of the day -- and, as was to be expected, lots of it. Steve surprisingly often ordered pasta and sometimes pizza from a small mom-and-pop style Italian place around the corner, which he had to pick up himself. In Nat’s column there was almost exclusively Filipino food -- unless she had ordered together with Clint or Steve. Speaking of Clint, he clearly preferred pizza, though he would occasionally throw in an order of curry with Bruce’s. Unsurprisingly, spicy food was high on Bruce’s list, especially Indian.

Tony pondered for a while, there wasn’t much overlap. Should he go for the safe order of pizza? They had all eaten that before. But somehow it seemed not enough, not when everyone else slaved in the kitchen to feed them all and Tony just had to order in. And if he was honest, he never did that himself, he always let JARVIS do it for him. To hell with being on the safe side, he’d just get some of everything.

“JARVIS, get the two most ordered things from everyone’s list. Make sure there is enough of the pizza and breakfast food for everyone.”

“Sir, I think this might be too much, even considering Captain Rogers’s and Thor’s heightened metabolism.”

“For once don’t think, but do as I say.” Tony growled. “I wanna do this right.” He ran a hand through his still damp hair, making it stick up every which way again. “It’s the least I can do for them.”

“Very well, sir. But might I remind you, that you are already providing more than generous lodging for your team mates and keep working on better weapons or armour. You are already doing a lot for them, there is no need to prove yourself.”

“Yeah, right.” Tony refused to argue with his own AI about this, but it never felt like he did enough. What were new weapons and armour? It was just something he was good at, it was actually a lot of fun to figure out better and more effective equipment for everyone. Nothing that he did mostly for his own enjoyment could be worth much to them. And as for their quarters at the tower -- well, there was more than enough room and it was just convenient to have everyone live together. Tony had money enough, no need to charge rent either. It was nothing special and he doubted that anyone thought it was.

Half past six -- thirty minutes before everyone should show up for dinner -- Tony entered the communal kitchen to find an additional table near the dining area, laden with bags and boxes full of takeout. He had barely begun to unpack, quickly suppressing any thoughts that he actually might have gone over the top this time, when Steve and Bruce entered.

“Hey Tony, we wanted to see if you needed any help with…” Steve stopped mid-sentence when he saw the amount of food already on the table and noticed at least the same still boxed up. “Do you plan to feed an army?”

Tony looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Between Thor and you, it might be necessary to have enough food for a small army.” He broke into a grin at Steve’s incredulous expression. “Don’t tell me you lost your appetite.”

Bruce had stepped closer and glanced over the spread. “If I didn’t fear for your interior design, I’d consider appearing as the Other Guy.” He ducked his head to hide his smile. “Do you want us to set the table?”

Tony smiled back, glad to see Bruce relaxed enough to make jokes about the Hulk around them. “Sure, why not. I think I’ll be busy with this for a bit.”

Steve shook his head again, then joined Bruce. They sat the table, chatting amicably; Tony let the sound of it wash over him. It was great to see that everyone seemed to get along so well now. This felt more like a family than his own ever had. He kept unpacking food, listening with one ear to Steve and Bruce talk about European history. Apparently Steve was still catching up on what he had missed -- and had noticed that the internet was a boon and a bane at the same time when you didn’t know which sources were reliable.

Natasha and Clint were next; she just raised an eyebrow at Tony after looking over the table overflowing with different dishes. Clint grinned at him and muttered something about ‘showoff’.

Only Thor seemed unphased and slapped Tony gently on the shoulder before exclaiming: “I see you provided a splendid feast, friend Tony!” 

Despite the scolding from almost everyone, Tony had noticed they were secretly pleased to see their favourite dish among the spread. This time dinner was a drawn out affair; they sat for a long while, getting some more food every now and again, talking about everything and nothing.

“So, who’s turn is it next time?” Tony asked when nobody was eating any more -- though it looked like they all were reluctant to leave just yet.

“I can cook, at least a few things,” Steve said quietly. “Though nothing fancy, just a few things my mom used to make.”

“Sounds good to me.” Clint grinned at Steve. “And can’t be less fancy than what I made.”

They all laughed at that and soon agreed that Steve really should be the next one to cook -- and that Tony should get started on that promised grill for Thor. Conversation drifted to different topics again, nobody made a move to leave and go back to their own quarters. 

“Come on, you can’t seriously think that remakes are better than the original movies!” Clint glared at Natasha.

“I never said that.” Natasha sighed. “I just said that they _can_ be good, if done right. And they might get a new audience to be interested in the movie.”

“She’s right.” Bruce chimed in.

Tony decided to stay out of this particular discussion. It was nice to let the conversation wash over him and to sit here, comfortable, surrounded by people whose company he enjoyed and who didn’t mind having him around either. He wondered if that was what having a family felt like -- a proper family, where people cared about each other. Tony’s thoughts drifted off to the past, and he only listened with half an ear to the conversation around him.

“Have you watched Star Wars yet?” Clint’s question to Steve brought Tony back to the present.

“Didn’t get around to it yet, why?”

“Really?” Tony chimed in before Clint could answer. “We have to change that, like right now.” He looked around the table. “What do you say, Star Wars marathon?” He nodded towards the living area with its comfortable sofas and the huge TV screen. “There’s room enough for everyone. And I think we have enough to snack on.” 

They all laughed at that, including Tony, because the table was still covered in at least half of what he had ordered. Nobody objected, though, and soon they found themselves piled on the sofas. Natasha’s feet were in Clint’s lap, Bruce and Tony bumped shoulders and put their heads together to discuss the science of this or that technological device in the film, Thor was sprawled in an armchair and Steve curled up in the corner of the sofa Clint and Natasha were sharing. As Tony had predicted, from time to time someone got up to grab some more food to munch on or get a beer or soda from the fridge. It was strangely domestic -- and yet Tony found himself enjoying it more than he would admit to anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr as [selana1505](http://selana1505.tumblr.com) \-- be warned, chaotic fan blog with some other things thrown in that I like and only the occasional writing post


	4. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is cooking for everyone -- and gets some company and help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my fabulous beta [faeleverte](http://archiveofourown.org/users/faeleverte) who once again helped to make this readable -- and thanks to A. who gave me the inspiration to this story and took on beta duties as well.
> 
> Please leave comments to let me know what you think of this. I always love to hear from my readers, even if it is criticism -- as long as it stays polite. You don't have to like my writing, you can certainly tell me when you don't like it, but mind your language, please. I have seen on too many other writer's works that they got insulted for not writing the story the reader imagined. If that happens here, I will delete your comment without warning
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just wish I would. So I just borrow them for some fun

Steve would never have admitted it to the rest of the team, but he still felt completely out of place -- not necessarily in their company, but in this brand new world in general. He’d barely had time to get used to the thought of having missed 70 years, of being all alone because pretty much everyone else was dead. And then so much had happened at once: aliens, a team of superpowered people, demi-gods and super spies, them moving into Stark tower. There was no time to catch up on what he had missed amid this whirlwind of events.

It wasn’t even the technology that he couldn’t handle -- no matter how much Tony teased him about it. That he had actually picked up on pretty easily, especially since everything at the tower that was available to the team was pretty intuitive to use. And the serum probably did help, like it had when he had understood how to fly the Skull’s plane despite never having piloted any plane before. 

But he had so much history to learn about, so many changes to adjust to -- and couldn’t believe how much still hadn’t quite changed for the better. Modern technology actually helped there -- the internet was a seemingly endless source of information. Though Steve had learned the hard way, that it could be misleading too, that you couldn’t trust every source. Filtering that was actually more difficult than to learn how to use a computer. JARVIS was a great help here, he was always more than willing to help Steve filter search results or find exactly what he needed.

When it was his turn to cook dinner for the whole team, Steve decided to not just cook bean soup like he had planned at first, but to make apple pie as well -- he needed something familiar, a special treat from his childhood. And he would go grocery shopping himself, not ask JARVIS to order everything for him -- it just didn’t feel right to have other people do something as simple as grocery shopping for him. 

Since they had planned to get together the next evening, he should probably go to the store now. Steve pulled on a well worn jacket that he had bought second hand -- it reminded him of a coat Bucky used to wear before the war -- and left his apartment. Another thing to get used to, having a whole apartment on his own, and on top of that being able to use the communal kitchen and living room. He’d never had that much room for himself before. Hell, the apartment he’d shared with Bucky had been smaller than his living room here. He shook himself out of thoughts of the past, they’d lead nowhere good, and began to make a mental shopping list on the way to the elevator: beans, ham, carrots, celery, apples, flour, butter…

Steve startled when he almost ran into someone; he had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t seen Clint come out of his door.

“Hey, what were you thinking about? Not like you to be daydreaming.” Clint looked him up and down, frowning.

“Oh,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck and shot Clint an apologetic look, “I was just planning what to buy for dinner tomorrow. Don’t want to forget anything important.” He left out the part where he had gotten lost in the past, had felt the loss of his best friend all over again. That was probably much more responsible for him ignoring the world around him than the groceries.

“What’cha making?” Clint’s frown had eased a bit, but wasn’t quite gone. Apparently he wasn’t quite fooled.

“Just bean soup, told you it would be nothing fancy.” Steve shrugged. “And apple pie, I haven’t had homemade pie in longer than I can remember.”

“You know how to bake?” Now the frown was gone and Clint was smiling slightly. “I wish I could do that.” They had both continued walking towards the elevator, which now opened for them.

“Sure, my mom used to make apple pie with apples from a neighbour sometimes and she let me help. Was home sick often enough.” Steve glanced back at Clint. “Why do you ask?”

“Can you teach me?” Clint looked up at Steve. “I’ll help with the grocery shopping and everything else.” He grinned sheepishly. “Never had anyone teach me how to do it.”

“Sure, it’s not that complicated.” Steve agreed readily. And why shouldn’t he? It wasn’t as if he was giving away a family secret -- and good things should be shared whenever you could. There were too many bad things that had happened to each of them, somehow you’d have to make up for them.

Steve didn’t mind the company on his shopping trip either, so he let Clint lead him to the nearest Whole Foods. It still sometimes overwhelmed him to see the variety that was available nowadays and to decide what to buy, so he just kept following Clint through the isles. Sure, he would have managed on his own, but Clint actually knew what he was doing and picked this brand of one thing, another of the next with comments like ‘can buy generic for this, not worth the price for the name brands’ or ‘stick to this brand, trust me, the rest tastes like shit’. Steve filed it all away for further use. 

“Can I ask you something?” Steve turned to Clint after a while, when Clint had explained the differences between brands of cookies while walking past them. 

“Sure, anything wrong?” 

“No, I just wondered: Why are you doing this, explaining everything to me -- but not like I’m stupid, just throwing information at me as if you knew I can remember all of it?”

“Well, you _can_ remember it all. I’ve read your file.” Clint shrugged. “And if nobody tells you, how are you supposed to know? I’ve had a lot more years to learn all of this, why not share with you?”

“Thanks.” Steve gave Clint a genuine smile. “I really appreciate it, because sometimes this,” he gestured around, “can be pretty overwhelming. There’s so much to learn about the changes that happened over the last 70 years, everywhere, most of the time I don’t even know where to start.” It felt good to admit this to someone.

“No big deal. And you can always just ask if you want me to show you around somewhere or explain something. S’not as if I’m an expert on everything, but if I can, I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks again, I really appreciate it.” Steve’s smile had widened. “But maybe we should get on with the shopping for now?”

Clint laughed, and they continued their journey through the store, still chatting comfortably -- and Clint kept throwing random bits of information at Steve whenever he noticed him looking puzzled by something.

Shopping took a while that way, and somehow they ended up with not just ingredients for bean soup and apple pie, but with a huge amount of snacks and beverages as well: Clint had decided that the common dinner had to evolve into an Avengers dinner and movie night. Well, Steve couldn’t argue against it. Watching Star Wars with all of them had been fun last time, much better than watching movies on his own, and he had gotten the impression that the rest of the team had enjoyed it, too. 

Between the two of them, Steve and Clint barely managed to carry everything home -- not for lack of strength, but even a super soldier still only had two arms. And since he hadn’t expected to buy so much, he hadn’t thought about using a backpack.

Back at the tower, they used JARVIS to help find hidden cupboards where they hid the snacks and drinks for tomorrow night -- after all they had been shopping for a movie night with the whole team, not to fill the pantry. And there generally was more than enough food and snacks available that nobody would have to go hungry without what they had just bought.

They chatted amicably while they worked -- and without even trying they moved around each other as if they’d always done so, they just kind of fell into step. It felt nice and comfortable. When Steve had soaked the beans in water and everything was put away, they drifted to the living area, still talking about everything and nothing in particular. Conversation shifted to movies and how many different versions there were of some classic stories like for example Robin Hood. 

“Wait, you’ve never seen ‘Men in Tights’? We’ve gotta change that!” Clint exclaimed. 

“You sure about that?” Steve was sceptical, it didn’t sound like something he’d be interested in.

“Trust me. JARVIS, can you start ‘Men in Tights’, please? We have to educate Cap.” Clint grinned at Steve.

“Of course, Sir.”

The film started and after a few minutes Steve had to admit that it was fun -- especially to watch it with someone who already knew it and was enjoying it as much as Clint did. After the movie ended, they decided to play Mario Kart -- which then turned into a long tournament. Clint might have more practice with playing games like this, but Steve had excellent reaction time and good hand eye coordination as well. Clint won, but it was a close call. The gentle banter and ribbing they kept up during the game felt nice and comfortable too.

By the time Steve went back to his rooms, it was past midnight -- and it had been one of the nicest, most relaxed evenings he’d had in ages. Since he’d been defrosted, he had missed the camaraderie he’d had first with Bucky, later with the Howling Commandos, but it looked like he was slowly getting it back with this new team. 

The next day, Steve and Clint met at 4pm in the communal kitchen -- Steve wanted to show Clint how to make apple pie while the soup simmered on the stove. That should give them more than enough time to have the pie ready for dessert without having to hurry.

As the day before, they fell into an easy conversation while working. Clint helped start the soup and cutting apples without even being prompted to, he was obviously familiar with those tasks and with not working alone in a kitchen. And again they worked perfectly around each other, it felt natural to share the tasks and space with Clint. Once the filling was prepared, they made pie crust -- Steve showed Clint how to do it, and Clint copied him so they’d end up with two batches of dough. They’d probably need two pies anyway, and if there was something left over, Steve was sure it wouldn’t go to waste. Not with the sweet tooth most of them secretly or not so secretly had.

Just when they had put the pies in the oven, the rest of the team began to trickle in and set the table while Clint and Steve finished cooking and cleaning up the worst of the mess they had made. The room filled with chatter and the clinking of cutlery and bowls -- and unlike in the past it now felt natural, like home. It was strange, but nice, to see how they had gone from awkward dinners spent in almost silence to this within such a short time.

“This smells almost good enough to be worth the interruption of my work.” Tony pushed his way between Steve and Clint and peered into the oven. “Oh, is that apple pie?” He bounced like an over excited child and looked from one to the other.

The timer chimed and Steve pushed Tony gently out of the way. “Yes, it’s apple pie. And unless you want it to burn, you should get out of the way now. Oh, before you ask, it’s for dessert, dinner is bean soup.”

“And what if I don’t want soup?” Tony let himself be moved, but stayed in the kitchen.

“Do I really have to treat you like a child and threaten that there will be no dessert if you don’t eat dinner?” Steve raised an eyebrow at Tony while he placed the first pie on the counter to let it cool down. Clint had already taken the second one out of the oven by the time Steve looked away from Tony, who was pouting now. Sometimes it was really hard to believe that this man was a genius, the way he behaved.

“Tony, sit your ass down, pouting won’t help.” Clint had crossed his arms and was glaring at Tony now. “And stop the charade, you’re not that good an actor.”

“Now I feel seriously insulted, Merida. How can you doubt my acting abilities?” With an exaggerated look of hurt Tony turned around. He glared at Natasha who had watched the exchange with an amused smile, but sat down at the table without further comment.

Everyone else followed Tony’s example and Steve placed the pot of soup on the table, next to the bread Clint had carried over from the kitchen. 

“I told you, it’s nothing fancy, just bean soup.” Steve looked a bit sheepish, unsure of how the team would react.

“Fancy, schmancy, who cares?” Tony helped himself to a bowlful of the soup, marking his earlier antics as the act they had been, and passed the ladle to Natasha. “And since when is homemade pie not fancy? I just hope you bought ice cream to go with it.” 

“Less talking, more eating, Stark.” Clint interrupted Tony’s chatter. “And of course there is ice cream.”

Thor chuckled at the exchange; Bruce and Natasha smiled, and soon everyone was eating. As had happened the last few times, soon some general chatter started up around the table, with some friendly teasing thrown in. It really reminded Steve of the Howling Commandos, of the easy camaraderie they’d had. He relaxed and joined in the chatter, which went from Tony’s newest creations for the team to silly jokes and back to Avengers business.

“But now it’s time for pie, right?” Tony asked once everyone had stopped eating.

Steve rolled his eyes at him, but smiled. “Yes, Tony, now you can have pie.” 

For once Tony was the first to get up and start to collect empty bowls to make room on the table. Clint and Bruce helped clear the table and collect clean plates and forks and soon everyone was sitting again, waiting for Steve to cut and distribute the pie.

“I think Clint should do this.” He handed the knife over to Clint. “After all he baked his very first pie today.” With that Steve pushed the pie Clint had made closer to him.

“Don’t you think we should start with yours? What if I messed mine up?”

“No way. I’ve watched your every step, if yours is messed up, then mine is too.” 

“Less talking more pie.” Tony interrupted, which made everyone laugh.

“Okay, okay, it’s your funeral.” Clint shrugged, then cut his pie and handed everyone a slice -- Tony was last. 

They handed the ice cream round and soon the only sounds were the scraping of forks on a plate and appreciating hums from everyone. Despite the amount of soup they all had eaten, everyone took a second slice of pie -- Thor even a third after he’d finished that one.

“Now, what do we watch tonight?” Clint asked while they were still eating.

“Did I miss something?” Bruce asked. “Nobody told me we’d watch something together.”

“They didn’t tell me either.” Natasha raised an eyebrow at Clint.

“Don’t tell me last time wasn’t fun. I thought we could extend the dinner to an Avengers dinner and movie night.” Clint shrugged and looked around. “And we still have to show a lot of movies to Steve and Thor that they really should know, don’t you think?”

“So true!” Tony was all excited again. 

Soon they all agreed that a regular dinner and movie night was even better than just dinner and moved towards the living area while still discussing what to watch that night. Steve didn’t join the discussion, except to veto a war movie. Instead he watched how comfortable the team seemed to be with each other by now. The same as last time, they all settled on the sofas and armchairs in front of the TV, leaning into each other’s space, sticking their heads together while talking. Even Bruce seemed completely relaxed, with one leg folded up on the sofa, knee brushing Tony’s leg. 

“Spaceballs!” Clint suddenly exclaimed next to Steve and startled him.

“Oh yes, that’ll be fun. JARVIS, you heard Katniss, start the film.” Tony grinned at Clint’s eyeroll. 

“Don’t worry, it really is a funny movie.” Bruce smiled at Steve’s confused expression.

“Yeah, you’ll like it.” Clint added. “You liked Men in Tights, you’ll like this one too.”

Even Natasha nodded at that, so Steve just shrugged and turned back to the TV. 

“Did you know Mel Brooks was a soldier?” Bruce asked, just before the film started. “I think he was in some Engineering Group, disarming landmines. Though he changed his name later, not sure what his real name was. Maybe you knew him.”

“JARVIS, do you have any information about that?” Tony asked.

“Of course, Sir.” Jarvis replied immediately. “Mel Brooks, born as Melvin Kaminsky, was a member of the 1104th Engineer Combat Group which did indeed defuse landmines and build bridges.”

“Thank you, JARVIS.” Steve thought for a moment. “No, never met him or his regiment, sorry Bruce.”

“Never mind, was just a thought. One of the random facts you read about people that stick in mind for some reason.” Bruce smiled at him. “But now, I think we have a movie to watch.”

The film really was fun, Steve hadn’t expected it to be a parody of Star Wars. To be honest, he didn’t know what he had expected. Didn’t matter, he enjoyed it, and so did everyone else. Thor’s booming laugh startled them more than once, Tony didn’t seem to be able to stop giggling in some places. When the film had ended, nobody made a move to get up and go back to their own quarters. Again, they fell into easy conversation, during which Tony announced that he had almost finished building the grill for Thor.

“It would be my honour to provide a feast for you then, my friends.” Thor seemed pleased.

“Just let me know when, and I can help and prepare some salad and vegetables to go on the grill.” Bruce said.

“Yeah, I can help too.” Clint agreed. “You’ll man the grill and we’ll make sure that everything else is ready.”

They began to discuss what they would need and when everybody would be around again. After that was sorted, Bruce excused himself -- he wanted to check on a simulation he had left running before he went to bed. Tony followed soon, heading back to his workshop as well. This seemed to be kind of a sign for everyone else to leave and soon Steve found himself alone in the kitchen. 

He glanced around, making sure there was no mess left. Satisfied, he went back to his rooms. That night, for the first time since he had moved in, he didn’t feel lonely at night despite being all alone in his rooms -- something he’d never really had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr as [selana1505](http://selana1505.tumblr.com/), though be warned: it's a random mess of fandom posts, mixed with everything else that catches my fancy and only the occasional bit about writing.


	5. Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has finally built a grill, so they have a barbecue, with Thor manning the grill most of the time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my fabulous beta [faeleverte](http://archiveofourown.org/users/faeleverte) who once again helped to make this readable -- and thanks to A. who gave me the inspiration to this story and took on beta duties as well.
> 
> Please leave comments to let me know what you think of this. I always love to hear from my readers, even if it is criticism -- as long as it stays polite. You don't have to like my writing, you can certainly tell me when you don't like it, but mind your language, please. I have seen on too many other writer's works that they got insulted for not writing the story the reader imagined. If that happens here, I will delete your comment without warning
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just wish I would. So I just borrow them for some fun

Thor curiously eyed the metal box Tony had led him to. Apparently it was called a grill and was meant to cook large amounts of meat over fire -- it looked nothing like the open fires with spits he was used to when he had prepared food on hunting trips. But he would figure it out, he wanted to repay the kindness his new shield brothers had shown when they had cooked for everyone.

“You turn it on with this button.” Tony gestured at a black button on the side of the otherwise unbroken metal surface of the grill. “Just push it, then the gas will start to flow and will be ignited automatically. If there’s no fire, the gas will stop by itself.”

“Gas? Where is the wood for the fire?” Thor was curious how this should work. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Tony to build something functional, quite the opposite, but this was too far out of his experience. He wanted to understand it as well as use it.

“You won’t need wood, there’s a propane tank underneath, a flammable gas that will provide all the flames you’ll need.” 

Thor nodded, that made sense. And it would burn much more evenly than a fire fueled by wood. Propane and other flammable gases were not uncommon on Asgard either, he just hadn’t known they were used for cooking.

Tony touched what must be a hidden latch at the other side of the grill and the front swung open to reveal a metal container inside, which was attached to metal tubes towards the top with a rubber hose. The metal tubes had tiny holes in them. “As soon as you push the button, the gas will start to flow through the hose and out of the small openings here. I have built in an automatic ignition to start the fire. It’ll burn evenly and you can adjust the heat by turning the start button to make the flames bigger or smaller.” He looked at Thor who was still studying the construction of the grill. “Try it.”

Thor pressed the button and with a hiss and a click small flames began to appear above the metal tubes. Experimentally he turned the button first away from himself -- which made the flames flare up -- and then back, until they were almost invisible.

“This is fine craftsmanship.” Thor admitted while Tony shut the front of the grill. He looked at the flames and frowned again. “But how will the meat stay above the fire? I can not see a spit to hold it, or anywhere to place a spit.”

“That’s where this comes into play.” Tony heaved up a big metal grid that had been sitting to the side, unnoticed by Thor so far. “Can you give me a hand here? This thing is heavy.” Thor easily lifted it out of Tony’s grasp and placed it above the fire, where Tony had indicated. “You might have noticed that we rarely cook whole animals here,” Tony joked, “this way you can place smaller pieces of meat over the fire and cook them evenly.”

“I think I like this grill!” Thor grinned and slapped Tony’s shoulder -- gently of course, he had quickly learned to adjust his strength to the more fragile humans. “I thank you my friend, it will be an honour to use it tomorrow to feed our companions.” He looked back at the grill, where small flames still licked at the grid. “You just need to show me how to turn it off again.”

“Oh, sure, just press the black button again.” Tony demonstrated himself, and as he had said, the flames died almost right away. “I went for simple and functional with this one, though I have to admit, I have a few ideas on how to optimize heat distribution and energy efficiency…” He trailed off. “You probably don’t want to listen to that, I’d better plan this in the workshop. See you tomorrow and have JARVIS call me if something doesn’t work.” While he was still talking, he turned around and left Thor alone on the rooftop.

Thor gave the grill one last approving glance, then walked back inside as well. Clint and Bruce had already talked to him earlier, they would prepare salads and vegetables while he would be responsible for cooking the meat. He was grateful for the help, his experience with food preparation was still far too limited. Speaking of help, he should ensure that everything was in order, it was his responsibility to feed his friends the next day.

“JARVIS, could you please ensure that there is enough food for everyone tomorrow?” Thor addressed Tony’s invisible servant politely. No matter how often the others explained to him that JARVIS was nothing but a machine, Thor knew he was more than that. “I do know nothing about what is needed for a ‘barbecue’, as Friend Barton has told me our dinner tomorrow is called.”

“Of course, Sir.” JARVIS replied smoothly. “I have ordered a variety of meat for you to grill. And Dr. Banner has informed me about which vegetables and how much bread to order. I have taken care of that as well. Grill sauces and bread have been ordered too.”

“I have to thank you, your help is once again very much appreciated.” Thor smiled in genuine thanks, he knew JARVIS could see it via the cameras Tony had everywhere.

“It is my pleasure, Sir.”

With nothing else to do for now, Thor decided to exercise for a while -- Tony had managed to build training equipment that was a challenge even for his Asgardian strength.

\---

When Thor came up to the communal floor the next day, Clint and Bruce were already in the kitchen. Clint was telling a story of an old mission with Natasha while they worked and Bruce looked relaxed and comfortable, working next to him. They both noticed Thor at the same time, before he could announce his presence, and turned around to greet him with warm smiles.

“I have prepared some vegetable kebabs to go on the grill as well, I’ll tell you how long they will take.” Bruce gestured towards a plate full of bamboo skewers with various vegetables -- Thor didn’t know all their names, but they looked familiar, he had eaten most of them before.

“And I’m working on a salad, if we have everything ready before you start to grill, we can keep you company outside.” Clint grinned. “And have a beer or two, while we do so.”

Thor laughed at that. “I will gladly accept both your company and your beer.”

Clint had barely finished the salad when Steve and Natasha appeared as well. Together they carried everything they would need outside, placed a smallish table with plates full of raw meat and vegetables next to the grill. Thor started the grill and, with a little help from Clint and Bruce, adjusted the flames and began to place the first things over the fire. Steve and Natasha meanwhile took care of setting the dining table, not inside, but one that had been placed a bit to the side of the grill, and piled it with bread and salads and grill sauces. Thor had to admit, this tradition of grilling and drinking was very nice; it reminded him of many nights he had spent with his shield brothers and friends on Asgard near a fire. There was the same camaraderie, the same joking around and teasing each other. 

To everyone’s surprise even Tony arrived early and joined them at the grill, sipping on a beer, joining in with a few stories of his own. It seemed things were not so different in this world than in Thor’s, despite how different it might look at first glance. 

This was even less formal than their usual dinners. Despite the size of the grill, not everything was done at the same time, so everyone just ate standing up, keeping Thor company. Clint took turns manning the grill, so Thor could eat too. Yes, this felt very comfortable and familiar, like a small piece of home in this still sometimes strange world. Though he still missed his old friends and the nights they had huddled around a fire, under blankets and furs to keep warm. As uncomfortable as they had been sometimes, sitting on cold stone and dirt, freezing in the icy winds or rain, there had been a closeness that he sometimes missed and that could not be gained in the short time he knew his new friends.

That night, they didn’t watch a movie, but instead stayed outside, drank more beer -- or in Bruce’s case water -- and just talked. For a while, Thor felt completely at home with everyone trying to out-do the other with tales about epic fights or love conquests -- or tales about funny misfortunes a friend had endured in the past. The type of battle and misfortunes were different, but otherwise the tales were much the same as what Thor had heard from Hogun, Volstagg, Fandral and Sif in the past.

“Oh no, Nat, you’re not going to tell them about Agadir!” Clint exclaimed.

“Really? And how will you stop me?” Natasha teased him, an eyebrow raised.

“If you do, I’ll tell them about Cardiff and how you…”

“Don’t you dare!” Natasha interrupted him and threw a bottle cap at Clint’s forehead. 

Clint just laughed.

Yes, very much the same as on Asgard. Thor smiled widely, leaned back more comfortably in his chair.

“Before you start to squabble like children, maybe you want to hear the tale of my first hunting trip with my friends.” All faces turned to him with an expectant look, he had not told them much about his past except for things relating to his family. “We were finally deemed old enough to go on a hunting trip without supervision, though we all had thought ourselves ready for a long while.” Thor smiled at the memory. “Since nobody paid much attention to our preparations, of course we smuggled some mead out in our saddle bags.”

Tony laughed. “So, you were pretty much like every young person ever. Good to know things are not so different on other worlds.” Everyone nodded at that.

“Yeah, even back in my youth we were the same, you should have seen some of the things Bucky got up to.” Steve smiled at the memory, though a hint of sadness crept on his face as well. “Not that I could ever keep up with him, with my health the way it was, but not for lack of trying.”

“Wait, you’re trying to tell me you’re not the innocent choir boy I thought you were?” Tony teased.

“Why don’t we let Thor continue with his story before we start to talk about Steve?” Bruce interjected.

“Aye, I would very much like to tell you about my past, my friends. There will be time for other tales, tonight or another time.” Thor waited until they were all looking at him expectantly. “As you might have guessed by now, our parents knew full well what we would be up to. But they let us believe we had been successful in our attempts to smuggle alcohol unseen out of the city. And as young as we were, we congratulated ourselves on our ability to trick those we deemed too old to know how to have fun...” 

Thor continued his story about the worst and yet somehow best hunting trip he’d had with his friends -- sometimes interrupted by comments on how someone or other had experienced similar things. This, he decided, was the best evening he had spent on Earth with his new friends so far. And he hoped there would be many more like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr as [selana1505](http://selana1505.tumblr.com/), though be warned: it's a random mess of fandom posts, mixed with everything else that catches my fancy and only the occasional bit about writing.


	6. Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint has convinced Natasha to cook, even if she's sceptical about it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my fabulous beta [faeleverte](http://archiveofourown.org/users/faeleverte) who found the time to help me with, even though she's busy with life and a huge story of her own -- and thanks to A. who gave me the inspiration to this story and took on beta duties as well.
> 
> Please leave comments to let me know what you think of this. I always love to hear from my readers, even if it is criticism -- as long as it stays polite. You don't have to like my writing, you can certainly tell me when you don't like it, but mind your language, please. I have seen on too many other writer's works that they got insulted for not writing the story the reader imagined. If that happens here, I will delete your comment without warning
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just wish I would. So I just borrow them for some fun

“Come on, Nat!” Clint almost whined. “I know you’re a good cook, and I haven’t had your Solyanka in ages.”

“Can’t you ask for anything else?” Natasha sighed exaggeratedly, but she was secretly pleased to hear that Clint had missed her cooking. 

“Nope.” Clint grinned at her. “I don’t get it often enough, especially since we moved in here. And I tried to eat it at restaurants, it just isn’t the same.”

“Alright, but keep everyone out of the kitchen while I work. I can’t guarantee I won’t kill them otherwise.” Natasha gave in, still a bit unsure if she wanted to cook for so many people. Oh yes, she knew how to cook and even enjoyed it -- but she had never done it for anyone but her closest friends. Not that she had many of those.

“Great!” Clint was visibly excited that she had finally agreed, this wasn’t the first time he had tried to convince her. “I’ll tell everyone, day after tomorrow? Tony should be back from his trip to wherever it is this time.”

“If you insist.” She tried and failed to give him an exasperated look. He would have seen through it anyway. “But remember, nobody in the kitchen until I’m done. And yes, that includes you.”

“Yes ma’am!” He mock saluted her before jumping up from her sofa. “Now excuse me, I have to give everyone the good news.” 

She smiled after him and then dropped on the place he had just vacated, curling her arms around her bent knees. To see Clint so happy that she would cook for him again was almost worth it -- but providing a homemade meal was a way of taking care of her friends. And it made her feel vulnerable, was she really ready to open herself up so much towards a bunch of people she just had met a few months ago? 

Her thoughts went back over the last few weeks, how they had started to adjust to each other slowly. More and more they were seeking each other’s company now, spending time together, helping each other out. It seemed that, without her noticing it, they had morphed from a team of people who happened to be thrown together to fight aliens and other threats into a real team and then into friends. There was nobody among them she wouldn’t trust with her life in battle. And if she was honest to herself, she had grown fond of each and every one of them -- even Tony. Now that she knew him better, she knew that most of what she had disliked about him was an act, something he used to keep people away. She had her own way of doing just that; she couldn’t really judge him for it.

She had to admit to herself that they had grown together not just as a team, but as friends -- and that she trusted them outside of battle as well. Apart from Clint, she couldn’t remember when she had last time let her guard down in front of other people -- at least not as much as she now now did with them. It probably couldn’t hurt to show them another part of herself that they hadn’t know yet.

The next day she went shopping, going to a tiny Russian grocery store she had discovered while mapping the surroundings of Stark Tower right after she had moved in. Most of what she needed would be delivered, she trusted JARVIS to order good quality food. He’d take care of the vegetables and the beef, both for the broth and to be added later, and pretty much everything else she might need. But pickled cucumbers were just different here, they never tasted the same as in Russia where they were actually rather salted than pickled. This store though had imported ones, which were just like the ones she remembered, almost as good as homemade. 

She chatted with the elderly shop owner in Russian while he rang her up -- he always said she reminded him of his granddaughter who had moved away to California. She didn’t mind the small talk and he seemed to be grateful to be able to speak to someone from his home country. On top of the cucumbers, she had picked up some sausages to be added to the Solyanka as well, she had never found an adequate replacement for them. And of course she had to buy a few sweets, but those would be hidden in her own cupboards. Especially from Clint, who tended to eat them all if she didn’t pay attention. 

Nobody saw her come back, so she had time to stash her candy in yet another place Clint hadn’t raided yet, hoping that this time Clint wouldn’t eat it all before she could get at least some. He really was an asshole sometimes, but he was her asshole.

The rest of the food went up to the communal kitchen, which was deserted that day. She shrugged at that, made herself a quick sandwich -- and as still nobody had arrived when she was finished, she took it with her back to her rooms. She wasn’t quite comfortable with completely relaxing in a space where at any time someone else could walk in. Yes, she trusted the others, but she wasn’t used to letting her guard down around so many people.

As promised, Clint kept the kitchen free of curious or helpful people while she first started the beef broth, then chopped and fried the vegetables and the rest of the meat -- and of course the sausages she’d bought the day before. She always kind of got lost in the task of preparing food for other people. It was as if she wasn’t just providing nutrition, but as if some of her love for whoever she was cooking for was added to the meal to nourish their hearts and souls as well. That’s what made her feel so vulnerable about it, cooking for other people was something deeply personal and emotional for Natasha. When the broth was done, she removed the meat, to cut it up into bit-sized chunks once it was cooled down. The other ingredients went into the broth, one by one, to cook on low heat. The meat from the broth was last to go back into the pot.

By the time Clint came around the corner, deliberately making noise to announce his presence, she was done cooking and had already cleaned up most of the mess cooking in such large portions inevitably made of a kitchen. While cleaning, she had pulled herself together and put up her usual, impenetrable persona -- or as much of it as she still deemed necessary around her new friends.

“You done here?” Clint asked, then sniffed. A smile spread over his face. “Definitely smells good already.”

Natasha smiled back, this was exactly why she couldn’t say no when he asked her to cook for him. “Yeah, am just cleaning up a bit while the soup keeps simmering.”

“Great, I’ll tell Bruce and Steve that they can come in and set the table.” His smile widened into a mischievous grin. “And then I’ll drag Tony out of his workshop. Think I should just drop out of the vents right in front of him? Or should I keep that surprise for another time?”

She laughed out loud. “Wait with it. Or you’ll be late for dinner, the vents are dusty and I won’t let you sit at the table covered in dirt.”

Clint laughed with her, then turned around to fetch the others. 

“Clint was right, this really smells good.” Bruce stated and seemed disappointed when he couldn’t glance into the pot because she had the lid on. “What did you make?” He had opened a cupboard and now looked at her expectantly, probably wanted to know if he needed to get plates or bowls.

“Solyanka, it’s a Russian soup.” She replied with a small smile. “Bowls and spoons, in case you were wondering.”

He laughed softly and handed bowls to Steve who was waiting right behind him. “Great, I love soups, they warm you from the inside and fill so much more than just your stomach.”

“True. When my mom made soup, it was like food and a warm embrace, all in one.” Steve agreed with a soft smile on his face. He carried the bowls over to the table, still smiling.

Bruce joined him, adding spoons and glasses and bottles of water and juice. Somehow he seemed to know exactly what everyone liked best; he didn’t even hesitate in front of the fridge. Natasha realized that she did too, when she bothered to think about it. They had spent so much time together, not always all of them, that she’d had enough opportunity to notice what everyone went for if left to their own. So many little details she knew about them that were not relevant for them working together as a team -- and they would probably know a lot about her as well. It was strange to be so familiar with so many people, but it didn’t bother her as much as she would have thought. Seemed like they had grown even closer together than Nat had previously noticed.

Clint came back, with Tony and Thor in tow, Tony still complaining about having been rudely interrupted in his work. Then they entered the kitchen and Tony went quiet for a second. They all looked at him -- and of course his stomach chose that exact moment to rumble loudly.

“Seems like I saved you from starving yourself.” Clint laughed.

Tony visibly tried to stay grumpy, but couldn’t help but join the laughter. “Pah, you all drag me out of my work far too often, I couldn’t starve myself if I wanted to.” 

“Someone has to take care of you, if you don’t do it yourself.” Bruce joined their conversation. “I might forget to eat for one meal when work distracts me, but you’re neglecting your body way too much when you are busy.”

“But it’s a damn fine body!” Tony waggled his eyebrows exaggeratedly.

“Have you looked at Steve or Thor lately? You’ve got nothing on them.” Clint teased with a wink to Steve who just grinned back at him. 

“Stop squabbling and sit down, Clint. I didn’t cook just for myself.” Natasha mock scolded him. “The same goes for the rest of you, or do you want me to tie you to your seats and force feed you?” She tried to keep a stern face, but failed.

Tony stared at her. “Don’t tell me you’ve been joking the whole time when you’ve threatened us with bodily harm.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She smiled her deadliest smile at him. “Maybe I’m just in an especially good mood today.”

“I wouldn’t take any chances, if I were you.” Steve sat down and pulled Tony onto the chair next to him. “Besides, I’m hungry and this smells good, so sit down, guys.”

Natasha smiled at him and brought the pot over to the table. As usual, the next few minutes were spent with filling everyone’s bowl and then more or less careful tasting.

“Promise you won’t let me wait so long for this again,” Clint pleaded after the first few bites. “I just can’t get it like that anywhere else, it never tastes right.”

“It really is as good as it smelled.” Bruce agreed. 

Natasha took in their praise, their relaxed posture, the natural way they all -- her included -- now interacted. Yes, it had been the right decision to cook for them. She might not be as close to them as she was to Clint, but they were getting there. Maybe a few more shared meals wouldn’t hurt either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr as [selana1505](http://selana1505.tumblr.com), though be warned: it's a random mess of fandom posts, mixed with everything else that catches my fancy and only the occasional bit about writing.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce walks into a too full kitchen, and thinks he has to do with a quick meal. He's pleasantly surprised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've come full circle, this story has ended. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it -- and my apologies if I've made you hungry. If it's any consolation, I made myself hungry while writing as well.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who followed this story so far, commented or left kudos. 
> 
> Thanks to my fabulous beta [faeleverte](http://archiveofourown.org/users/faeleverte) who found the time to help me with, even though she's busy with life and a huge story of her own -- and thanks to A. who gave me the inspiration to this story and took on beta duties as well.
> 
> Please leave comments to let me know what you think of this. I always love to hear from my readers, even if it is criticism -- as long as it stays polite. You don't have to like my writing, you can certainly tell me when you don't like it, but mind your language, please. I have seen on too many other writer's works that they got insulted for not writing the story the reader imagined. If that happens here, I will delete your comment without warning
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just wish I would. So I just borrow them for some fun

Bruce entered the communal kitchen after a day spent in town to find it full already -- apparently Clint and Natasha had returned early from their mission. Looked like he had to make do with something simple for dinner, with all of them bustling around. He shrugged, wouldn’t be the first time.

“Hey, Bruce!” Clint greeted him with a warm smile. “Steve, can you crack a few more eggs? Looks like we’ve got one more mouth to feed.”

“Sure.” Steve wove his way around Clint and Natasha to the fridge to get another carton of eggs.

Bruce looked more closely, he could see that they were working together seamlessly -- Steve was off to one side, mixing eggs in a bowl; Clint was stirring something in a huge pan; Natasha was cutting vegetables for a salad on his other side. They handed each other things without much prompting and moved around each other as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Thor had just gotten up from the table, which was already set for five, and accepted the additional plate and cutlery that Natasha handed him as soon as she heard him approach. He placed them on the table and grinned at Bruce, who was still standing in the doorway.

“Sit down, there is nothing we can help with.” Thor said and gestured to a chair next to him. 

“And if you want to stand around, let me through first.” Tony’s voice came from behind Bruce, startling him a bit. He moved aside and stared at Tony who just plopped down on a chair as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Huh, apparently it was, because nobody seemed to mind, and it looked as if they had been expecting Tony.

“Sit down already, Bruce.” Steve called from the kitchen. “We didn’t know when you’d be back, so we didn’t call you.” 

“Yeah, we kind of all bumped together in the kitchen and decided to cook for everyone who was here.” Clint chimed in.

“Thor dragged me out of the workshop.” Tony grumbled. “And Natasha threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t take a shower before dinner.”

“You were filthy and stank of I don’t even want to know what.” Natasha called over her shoulder. “It was disgusting.”

“Anyway, I had asked JARVIS to tell me if you’d be back before dinner, didn’t want you to miss out.” Tony grinned over his shoulder at Bruce. “Wouldn’t want to miss the company of the only guy who speaks English here.”

Bruce had to laugh at that and finally moved towards the table. It was great to see everyone get along so well, as if it had always been like this. He sat down in between Tony and Thor, just in time for Steve, Clint and Natasha to put a big bowl of salad and what looked like a Spanish Tortilla in a huge pan on the table.

They all dug in, chatting about Clint and Nat’s latest mission -- which apparently had turned out to be a milk run. It was amazing, really, to see how different this was from just two months earlier, when they all had been living beside each other, not together. In such a short time, they had grown together, not only as a team, but as friends. And all that through a handful of shared meals, it seemed. 

Apparently there was a lot of truth to all the sayings he had encountered all around the world, that connect food with love, family and friendship.

“Laughter is brightest in the place where the food is.” - Irish proverb  
“Liebe geht durch den Magen” (Love travels through the stomach) - German proverb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr as [selana1505](http://selana1505.tumblr.com/), though be warned: it's a random mess of fandom posts, mixed with everything else that catches my fancy and only the occasional bit about writing.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr as [selana1505](http://selana1505.tumblr.com), though be warned: it's a random mess of fandom posts, mixed with everything else that catches my fancy and only the occasional bit about writing.


End file.
